I’ve noticed that I have this odd reaction when I’m walking alone, and I come up to a crosswalk: 

I always stop…and then look both ways to make sure there are no cars coming. (That’s normal.) If the coast is clear, I almost always jog across the street — just in case.

Because you can never be too careful! 

But if there are cars rolling up on either side of the crosswalk, I completely stop myself from moving forward. Even if the car is really far off, and it’s totally reasonable to believe that I can make it across the street before the car even gets close, I still feel the need to wait on the edge of the crosswalk to make sure I’ve visually estimated the distance correctly. 

I can’t seem to bring myself to make a dash across the street — even when I’m pretty sure I could make it — unless I’m absolutely positive the oncoming car is breaking or slowing to a stop.

That’s probably a little crazy. 

With some added consideration, I think my crosswalk conundrum is directly linked to something in my personality. As you know by now, I’m naturally cautious — even though I’m always deliberately or inadvertently at risk on some level in my life at any given time! Some of the risks I face are circumstantial, while other risks are clearly my own choice. But lately, no matter what kind of risk I’m facing, my “inner crossing guard” seems to be trying to protect me from more than an oncoming car in the distance. 

I think emotionally, I’m fearful of taking steps forward if I have to trust in other people for protection, or to be my ally. I think I’ve reached a point in my life where I have almost no faith that people will do what they are supposed to do, or what they say they’re going to do. And, I have this new concern that I’ll misread something in the mix, or accidentally cause some kind of crash that ruins everything for everyone. 

Clearly, I don’t trust in others (or myself) very easily anymore. 

But my fear of taking a step forward might have been the most acute right after I returned from England. I felt insulated and protected from my potential with Roy while I was away; and, feeling like I was “unreachable” gave me this odd form of power over my fears about the pilot and my life in general. I could build a story in my mind that the reason Roy didn’t call me was that he knew I was out of the country, and anything else that was left a little messy in my life was out of my reach to deal with as well. 

But once I was back, I felt like I was just waiting to be blindsided by rejection and disappointment. I couldn’t seem to judge the distance of the shapeless hopes in my path — and, truthfully, I couldn’t see any oncoming realities heading toward me from any direction. So I just stood there…waiting for something — anything, really — to make me feel safe enough to trust my own feet.  

So when Roy did call me during my second week on my own, I remember feeling too afraid to answer the call. I was facing an intersection of sorts in my journey with him, and I was almost paralyzed with fear. So I let his call go into voicemail. I had to make sure I was prepared to hear his voice and to take in his words — no matter what he said. 

I remember Roy’s message was short, but his voice was strong. He said, “Sonja. Call me! Please.”

I let my heart rate slow a bit, and then I called Roy back. The news was awesome — he loved the pilot, and the other episodes, too. His “people” were just getting into their review, and Roy wanted to start the process of preparing me for the next steps. If everything went how he predicted it would, things would start to line up for me, and an offer would be made to option the series at some point. 

Roy did tell me it might take some time, but his exact words were, “It can be a long process, with lots of hurdles. But you’ve just cleared the first two — and probably most difficult — hurdles of them all.” 

I recall being almost numb when I hung up with Roy. 

I was almost afraid to believe the words I heard. I was still too stuck in my fears to believe that it was safe to step into this opportunity — even though I really wanted to! Maybe I was just savoring the news, or, maybe I was so used to doubting the promising things people say after all of the waiting Lou and I had been doing in Utah. 

But even now, with plenty of hindsight, my reaction seems odd to me. The only thing I’m sure of is that my heart was completely packed with emotional baggage at that time in my life — which made believing in people a lot more daunting.  

But it’s safe to say that after that call I was facing the most important crosswalk in my career so far. And in usual Sonja fashion, I was uncertain that I could trust myself to take a step forward without risking every part of me. So I kept Roy’s call to myself for a few hours. I wanted to replay Roy’s words in my head and memorize them in case this was the best news I would ever get. 

I remember sitting in that borrowed recliner of Jackie’s and rocking in it for a little while. I was fearful that as soon as I told Lou or Sam this news, I might lose track of everything again. I hadn’t made enough progress to trust myself yet, and that scared me. I feared that once someone other than me (and Roy) knew what was going on, it would set everything in motion outside of me again — and that felt too risky. 

So I just wanted to be still for a little while longer without making a move in any direction. That was the only way I could find some control over the range of emotions I was experiencing that raced between fear and excitement and back again…

When I looked out the window, I remember noticing all the melted puddles of snow pooling on the poorly constructed surface of the patio deck. I vividly recall saying to myself:

“If everything freezes over tonight, those puddles are going to be like dangerous little ice slicks all over the deck.” 

True to form, I was preparing myself for the potential slipping hazards I feared might be in my path if I made a move of any kind to cross over to my future.